


When All The Heroes Are Gone

by vassalady



Category: Captain America (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Comfort Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the world has no need for superheroes, Steve and Sam find themselves having difficulty adjusting. At least they have each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When All The Heroes Are Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for brief mentions of potential child neglect/abandonment.
> 
> I mostly needed a framework to put some Steve and Sam smut in and it ended up in this melancholy AU. Oh well.

When Steve gets home, he makes it as far as the couch before collapsing on it and falling asleep.

He wakes up to the smell of Chinese take out. He cracks open an eye to see Sam sitting on the floor just a few feet away, legs crossed underneath the coffee table, papers in one hand, chopsticks with lo mein in another, and his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. It's only been a few years since he started needing the glasses, but Steve likes the way they frame his face.

After a moment, Sam notices Steve staring. “Welcome back,” he says with a grin. He shoves the chopsticks into the open container and sets aside the papers. He leaves the glasses on, peering over the edge to look at Steve, which Steve very much appreciates. “Haven’t seen you go out like that for a long time.”

“It was a bad day,” Steve says as he pushes himself up. “Got any pork?”

As Sam hands him a carton, he says, “What happened?”

Steve shrugs a shoulder as he takes a few much needed bites. The food is getting cold fast, but it still tastes like the best thing on Earth to him at the moment. “There was an accident on site today. Wall we were putting up collapsed, we had to dig two guys out.”

Sam whistles low. “That’s tough. They make it ok?”

“Yeah, though one was still at the emergency room last I heard,” Steve says. He takes another bite and chews it for a moment longer before continuing. “Thing is, there I was lifting a beam I had no right to be lifting on my own, and people start asking who I used to be. Joey even asked if I was Power Man.”

Sam half-snorts and half-laughs. “Seriously?” he says with a grin and a shake of his head. “Someone thought your lily-white ass used to be Power Man?”

“Don’t tell Luke,” Steve replies with a half-hearted smirk. “But you know… I don’t think anyone really remembers who any of us used to be. Power Man, Falcon, hell, even Captain America. They’re all just names now.”

It’s hard to say, even after all these years, but once he does, there’s also a sense of relief. He misses the old gang, kicking back with the Avengers after a mission. He still goes out for drinks with some of them, but most of the old heroes have all gone their separate ways.

Steve would never give up this peaceful world for one that needs heroes again. But sometimes, he wishes it were so easy to just knock on Jan’s door if he wants to talk with her or fly through the sky with Iron Man again.

He misses the feel of his shield, too; the old girl’s tucked away safely in the closet, under the floorboards, but he won’t be throwing her around any time soon.

Sam takes off his glasses slowly. “I wish it were easier sometimes. Not that wearing the cape was ever easy,” Sam says with a shrug, “but I felt like there was more I could do.” 

Sam looks at a piece of chicken for a long moment before continuing. Steve lets him take all the time he needs.

At last, Sam says, “Just as I was leaving the office for lunch, I ran into a woman trying to slip something underneath the door. She seemed shocked to see me, I don’t know, we just ran into each other at the wrong, awkward moment. Anyway, after a second, she just drops this letter and… runs.” Sam takes a shaky breath and runs his hands over his head. Steve wants to reach across the table to Sam, but Sam hooks his hands behind his head and leans back until he’s laying on the floor, mostly out of Steve’s sight. “Letter said cause she was unemployed, and her benefits were stopping, she couldn’t… She said she’d dropped her baby in a garbage can few streets over. I called the police on my way there, but hell, I don’t know if she hadn’t done it yet, decided against it, or… or put the kid somewhere else. My afternoon was spent scouring the streets, looking for her, for the baby, for anything odd. Had all the birds at it, too, Redwing doing circles, but… Found some kids dealing drugs, but that was it. Half-terrified we’ll hear something about it in the news tomorrow. It’s going to be cold tonight.”

All Steve can come up with is, “Shit.”

Sam gives a hollow laugh. “Yeah. Shit. Definitely easier to just chase down a goddamn robber, huh?”

They stay like that for several long minutes, food forgotten. Just as Steve decides to shift and move to the floor, Sam sits up. He meets Steve’s eyes, and his lids are half-hooded, lips parted. He stands slowly, and Steve leans back, watching his every move.

Sam has lost some of the muscle mass he used to have, but he still moves gracefully and with purpose. He stops right in front of Steve, and Steve’s blood rushes through him. He takes a heavy swallow as Sam leans down and catches his lips.

It’s not an urgent kiss; it’s painfully tender, like Sam is afraid to hurt him. Or maybe Steve is afraid to hurt Sam. Either way, their lips barely touch. Steve reaches up to wrap his arms underneath Sam’s shoulders and pull him closer, down on top of him.

They go slowly, and it’s like their third time. Not their first, that was hot and sweaty and over in minutes, and not even like their second, where they tried to slow down but ended up rutting against each other with abandon.

Sam’s fingers trace every countour of Steve’s bare chest as his lips gently map out Steve’s face. Both the touch of Sam’s lips and fingers are so light, Steve almost doesn’t register them except for a soft tickling. He splays his hands across Sam’s skin, running his palms along his back, his sides, his front, and over his head.

It's about focus. Sam needs this sometimes, needs to take something and give it his full attention. It helps ground him. Steve thinks most former heroes could use some grounding. The days of warped timelines, memories, and personalities are long gone, but the scars remain.

Eventually, Steve slips his hands beneath Sam’s pants to grasp his ass and pull him closer. He can feel Sam’s cock half-hard in his jeans against his thigh. Steve shifts his leg, which makes Sam groan.

“Easy,” Sam says against Steve’s throat. He chuckles before saying, “Unless you just want me to come over your stomach.”

“That sounds good to me,” Steve replies, before bringing Sam in for a harsher kiss. When they break away, he adds, “But I can wait.”

Sam continues his exploration of Steve’s body. It’s cramped on the couch, but from past experienecs, they’ve learned to more or less manuavre in a way that gives them both good acess to one another.

Sam slowly works his way down Steve’s body. Sam’s mouth spends a long time at Steve’s naval. He flicks his tongue in and around it, making Steve squirm. Steve needs him lower, but Sam doesn’t rush. He just teases with his tongue and fingers.

Sam finally reaches the edge of Steve’s pants, and he slips just the very edges of his fingers beneath, running them along the waist. “Getting old here,” Steve says with a gasp, but Sam shakes his head again.

“We already are old, Steve. Or soon will be.”

It’s not exactly true; they aren’t even properly middle-aged yet (nevermind Steve being almost a centenarian). But they do both feel old, lost and useless to the world as it is now.

“Got me there,” Steve says.

Sam only takes another moment, however, before undoing Steve’s jeans, and they work together to ease them, along with his underwear, off Steve’s hips. Without a glance, Sam tosses them aside to join their shirts. 

“Could have knocked the food over,” Steve says.

“Don’t care.”

The air is cold against the hot skin of Steve’s cock. He’s only half-hard, but he wants to buck up into Sam’s touch.

Sam’s fingers ghost up the underside of his cock. Steve doesn’t suppress his groan that arises. Sam takes his time, not quite touching Steve, but not leaving him alone either.

Finally, hot breath skates across the head of Steve’s cock. He takes a deep, sharp breath as Sam envelops the head of Steve’s cock in his mouth.

It’s all long strokes of the tongue and casual twists of a hand as Sam works him over. Sam takes his time; he doesn’t rush, and he brings Steve to full hardness at an achingly gentle plod. Having achieved that, Sam seems to have no intention of actually getting Steve off. He maintains that slow, steady pace.

Steve at once wants to bury himself in Sam’s hot mouth and wants to just enjoy the happy hum of arousal and want that envelops him. He puts a hand to the back of Sam’s head, scratching his fingers across Sam’s hair. It’s cropped too short to grip, but he strokes it, each little strand tickling his skin with a soft scratch.

Sam sighs around his cock, which sends a jolt through Steve, disrupting that aroused hum he’s feeling.

“Damn it, Sam,” Steve breathes out. He looks down to see Sam grin around his cock, and that just sets Steve’s skin on fire. He watches closely now as Sam wraps his lips tight around his cock and hollows his cheeks. Steve shivers when Sam’s hand moves to his sac, massaging gently, and then presses right behind his balls. He lets out a throaty moan. Sam’s eyes meet his, and if Sam’s mouth weren’t full of Steve’s cock, he’d probably be laughing.

After that, Sam starts to become more earnest. He moves faster, pulls Steve in deeper and holds him there briefly, throat working tightly around Steve's cock, before pulling back so his lips rest just beneath the head. Both hands are on Steve now, one on his cock, one alternating between rubbing his stomach, a finger dragging across Steve’s naval, and stroking his balls and pressing into the skin just behind them.

Steve feels the heat building in his groin. “Close,” he says, “so close, just a little…”

Sam pulls off long enough to say, “Come on, then.” He envelops Steve’s cock again.

It’s only a few more minutes before Steve gives a half-aborted thrust of his hips and comes. Sam keeps his lips wrapped around the head of Steve’s cock. When Steve is done, Sam pulls off and wipes the head of Steve’s cock with his fingers before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Steve smiles at him, feeling fuzzy from his orgasm. “Thanks,” he says. “What do you-”

“Food,” Sam says, interupting him before he can ask. “We both need more food, then…” He leans up and kisses Steve slowly. “I want to fuck you.”

Steve’s blood starts to pool south again. “Yes,” he says. “Please.”

Steve pulls his pants back on for dinner. Once they start eating the cold Chinese food, they both find themselves ravenous, and it’s all gone in less than half an hour. They clean up the empty cartons, tossing everything in the trash.

As they end up in the bedroom, arms wrapped around one another, things seem a little better to Steve.

He groans under Sam’s touch as Sam stretches Steve open. They are more rushed than earlier, but they still take it slow. Sam fucks Steve with his fingers until Steve is loose and pliant. Steve grabs Sam’s shoulders, bringing Sam’s body flush to his.

“Now,” he says in Sam’s ear before nibbling the lobe. Sam nuzzles Steve’s neck for a long moment while thrusting against Steve’s hip, dry and rough.

“Trying to test my patience?” Sam says. His voice is rough with arousal.

“Thought you were testing mine,” Steve replies. They kiss, hot and eager all of a sudden.

Sam breaks away from Steve long enough for Steve to turn over. Steve feels the head of Sam’s cock push in. It’s an easy slide; Steve is loose and relaxed, and Sam has used enough lube that there’s little friction.

Sam’s thrusts are slow and deep. Steve rocks with each thrust, his own cock, once again hard, catching on the pillow beneath him. They’re at it like that for what seems like an eternity. Steve’s hips and ass begin to burn slightly. His fists his cock, trying to keep his strokes slow, trying to keep time with Sam’s languid pace. There’s a buzz beneath his skin and in his groin, one that feels like it’ll never leave, an itch he can’t quite scratch.

But something shifts between them as Sam switches his angle and manages to drag across Steve’s prostate. Steve bites back a moan, letting out only a grunt, and then Sam speeds up. His thrusts shorten, and the slap of his skin against Steve’s picks up to a quick rythm.

Suddenly, Steve’s all on fire. He’s hot and panting, pushing back into Sam as best he can, hand jerking his cock as fast as he can.

Sam fucks into him, hard and fast now, and Steve just urges him to go harder, faster, as impossible as that might be. It’s not long before Sam thrusts in and comes, his cheek resting against the nape of Steve’s neck. He presses furtive kisses into Steve’s skin as he comes down before slipping out.

Steve rolls over the minute Sam is free, accidentally knocking Sam down on top of him in the process. He kisses Sam for a long moment, his cock still hard and trapped between their bodies.

Together, they grip Steve’s cock and jerk him off. Their hands clash and it’s messy and irregular, but Steve comes with a groan.

They stay like that for a long moment, bodies pressed together, trapping their hands still wrapped around Steve’s cock. Steve pulls Sam’s bottom lip into his mouth. As they kiss, languid once again, Steve manages to say into Sam’s mouth, “Fuck yes.”

Sam just smirks and continues kissing Steve. They eventually taper off, until Sam and Steve are both on their backs, half wrapped around one another.

Steve feels sticky, skin prickling as the cool air dries the sweat and come on his skin. But he also feels warm and comfortable with Sam at his side. He catches Sam’s hand and runs his thumb over his knuckles.

“You know,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence, “it could be worse.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, “could be. Dude, you could actually look your age."

Steve's having none of that. He pulls Sam into him, but Sam twists away, a mad grin on his face. That sets them off into an impromptu wrestling match, pillows, sheets, and limbs flying, until the are on a heap on the floor, laughing into rough, open mouthed kisses.

The laughter dies down, and Sam's head is pillowedon Steve's shoulder. He shifts to meet Steve's eye.

Sam smiles at Steve; it’s weary but there's an undercurrent of quiet happiness, too, a note of we can do this together.

Steve's heart clenches, and he presses a quick kiss to Sam's forehead.

They clean themselves up, both throwing on only pajama bottoms, and resume their position on the bed with fresh sheets. 

Steve pulls Sam a little tighter that night. Or maybe Sam holds him closer. Either way, Sam is the only anchor Steve has left, and Steve doesn't know how to tell him that.

One of these days, he'll figure it out, even if by then they're old and gray and no one even remembers superheroes existing.

For now, he traces a thumb down Sam's face as Sam sleeps before closing his own eyes and drifting off.


End file.
